Windswept Waters
by Takaehiko
Summary: Della is an almost-forgotten child, grown up and as hot-tempered as any Queen who is also a natural Black Widow. Raehlvar is an Eyrien Warlord Prince searching for his sister. Is love in the air when the two meet unexpectedly? R
1. Chapter One

I do not own... well, just about everything here, except the story idea. I also own a few charcters, Raehlvar, Zalenar, and Phaidian being a few... This story is based on the Triliogy by Anne Bishop.

Since, unfortunately, we can't use astriks, ::this:: will take the place of them in, I don't know what you'd call it, mind-speaking? Through the threads, of course... okay, who wasn't confused by that? Anyway, "this" is normal speaking, _italics_ is thought.

This story takes place seven years after Queen of the Darkness.

* * *

1/ Kaeleer 

Della pushed back the windswept golden locks from her face, using craft to keep them pinned behind her ears. The fabric in her lap refused to stay stationary as well, impeding any progress her clumsy needle might make. _Give me a knife, a bow, even the sticks, any day, but a needle and thread?!_ "Torture..." shu mumbled aloud, setting aside the shirt.

::How is the mending?:: asked a voice in her head, stretching across the short distance between her and the speaker on a Sapphire thread. Spear to distaff. Behind her, the eight-hundred pound Arcerian cat put his head between his paws, settling once again, at her back.

Della growled and pounced on KaeAskavi, gently grabbing a hunk of white fur. He swatted her lightly with a huge paw, sending her sprawling. She picked herself up with dignity, then growled again.

::Are you injured?::

"Only my pride," she grumbled. "I used to be able to know you over!"

::Then you have enough strength to pack for the Hall?:: KaeAskavi considered for a moment before adding, ::Only when I let you.::

His final words fell on deaf ears, as Della shrieked "Daemon!" and ran towards the den. He sighed and followed at an easy lope, overtaking her shortly before she reached her destination. The dark haired man turned as Della came tearing towards him. He had just enought time to raise his arms before she ran into him. They remained standing thanks to his craft.

He hugged her tightly before releasing her, "Della, I'm sorry that I'm-"

"Late?" she interrupted, "It's okay, Uncle Daemon, I know you've been worried about Auntie Jaenelle. How is she? How's the baby? What-?"

"One question at a time!" he laughed, "We'll talk while you pack."

- - -

Della smiled as she placed the last shirt in the dark oak dresser. She had insisted on seeing Jaenelle and the baby before unpacking. _No wonder Daemon was late_, she thought. Not only was the baby a boy, something of which Daemon was immensely proud, but the birht had been tough on Jaenelle. Della had sensed the happy weariness in her adopted aunt's psychic scent, but she was gaining strength.

She could have come by herself, there was a Sapphire wind near the den that she and KaeAskavi could both travel on, but she hadn't wanted to intrude at the Hall until Daemon was ready for her. Certain males were... prickly at stressful moments.

And it would be braking tradition.

Every season for the past seven years, since Della was ten- the year her parents had been killed and she had started living with KaeAskavi and the other Acerian cats- Daemon would come and check on her. At first, he took her on walks during his visits. On occasion, Kaelas, KaeAskavi's father, would insist he stay for a while. The visits became longer, and their walks turned into longer trips. They would ride the winds to the Hall to see Jaenelle, or the Ebon Rih to see Lucivar, or to Amdarh to go shopping. Now, she had her own rooms at the Hall and stayed there for a moon before going back to Arceria.

She'd heard Daemon comment one time that he was trying to 'ease Della back into society'.

Della laughed, remembering when Daemon had lured her into staying with Lady Karla in Glacia by telling her Karla would teach her craft and introduce her to the Hourglass. Della had stayed for two weeks before she recognized Daemon's attempt to make her stay with her 'own' people. The Arcerians were her people now, despite what her bloodlines would chance to argue. She had politely told Lady Karla that she would learn the ways of the black Widow from the Arcerian Black Widows.

Daemon had given up on making her live anywhere but Arceria, but had insisted she still visit the Realm and be comfortable around people.

Someone knocked softly on the door before it opened a crack and Surreal stepped in. She smiled warmly, "Time for weapons practice, and you better have practiced with the sticks since last time."

Della grumbled and turned to KaeAskavi who was lounging on her bed. "Do I have to go?"

Surreal stuck her head back through the door, "And don't make me have Falonar come drag you out to the field!"

Della winced and mumbled agreement. Having Falonar 'fetch' you wasn't a pleasant experience, but it wasn't as bad- or as wet- as when Lucivar dragged you to weapons practice. Thinking of the freezing shower she'd get from Lucivar, she quickened her pace and trotted obediantly behind Surreal.

2/ Kaeleer

"See," said Zalenar too cheerfully, putting his arm around Raelvar and helping him across the field, "It wasn't so bad having Hallevar for a fighting partner!"

Raehlvar winced. The sound of wood whacking wood had rung sharply over the field. He'd let his guard down for a moment and Hallevar had taken advantage of his weakness. Then came the lecture... the loud lecture that would tell everyone in Ebon Rih that he, Raehlvar, had messed up... again.

"RAEHLVAR!" Hallevar had bellowed, "HOW CAN YOU EVER EXPECT TO BECOME AN EYRIEN WARRIOR?!"

The lecture wasn't so different from the ones he'd been getting all week. Ever since he had started dreaming of his sister, he'd been unable to concentrate. In his dreams, he walked through a misty woods, searching for her while her cries for help echoed around him. He only hoped that Phaidian wasn't in the Twisted Kingdom, but his concious self couldn't remember what his dream self tried to tell him. He only knew that she was in trouble, and in Terrielle.

Raehlvar groaned and stretched his wings. "Then you can have the honor next time," he growled.

"Testy," commented his best friend, "Come, Oh mighty Warlord Prince, let's get something to eat so you'll be tolerable for lessons this afternoon."

The two made their way to the kitchen, cautiously avoiding Marian who was beating rugs with vigor. She was in a foul mood from having Lucivar fuss over her because she was pregnant. Daemonar was watching her, probably on his father's orders, looking much the innocent eleven year old.

::Wouldn't you love to have a marriage like that one?::

::Shut up Raehlvar, they're not always like that,:: Zalenar retorted, keeping the conversation on a private spear thread to spare Marian- and themselves.

Raehlvar shook his head, shaggy black hair flying around, "You romantic-types are all the same." He led the way, mentally making a list of all the reasons why he'd never marry. Zalenar, knowing what his friend was thinking sighed. _You'll change your tune once you meet a girl that interests you. _Smiling at Marian, he followed Raehlvar into the kitchen.


	2. Chapter Two

Once again, I do not own the places, nor most of the characters included in this story, I have borrowed them from Anne Bishop for the purpose of this story.

* * *

1/ Kaeleer 

Night had fallen softly on Ebon Rih, no one stirred except Raehlvar. He paced in his room. Neither able to settle down or do anything, for Lucivar was a light sleeper and caught every noise past what was behind anyone's doors.

He opened the double doors leading from his room to one of the gardens below. The night scene of moonlit statues and cool blue water usually calmed him, but tonight he needed more. If he slept he dreamt of her, if he kept himself awake again as he had for the past few nights, he'd go mad.

Perhaps just the sight and sound of the garden was not enough. He scrawled a note to anyone who might check in on him, though he knew only Zalenar would look for him tomorrow, he had no lessons for a few days, except for the early stick training with Hallevar. And if he missed that, oh well, one less stressful point of his day.

For a few moments, he walked amonst the statues, taking in their solemn or jovial faces with an artistic appreciation. His wings stretched of their own accord when he reached one of the fountains. His body wanted to fly, to make one of the runs- or just to soar above the cities and towns until they turned into specks. He wanted to witness every moonlit stream, every dark forest, every flash of kindred running below him, every blue-tinted flower. The air called to him, teasingly whirling around him.

_I'll be back by morning anyway, what's the harm? All Eyriens are called to the skies at certain points in their lives._ Raehlvar lifted his head to the full moon and darted towards it, using only craft to ascend straight into the sky until he was high enough to catch some wonderful thermals.

The wind was pulling him east. _Not yet, _he told in silently. A slight stream ran with him below. He dove towards the earth, letting the wind blow him which ever way it wanted to.

Slowly, his muscles began to relax and he thought only of the skies, his home.

2/ Kaeleer

Della scowled at the tangled web she had spun in the small wooden frame. Image fragments flashed before her eyes, etching pictures in her brain; a shattered chalice, a twisted Eyrien, and most disturbing, little Mephis. The baby was ill now, but what did the web have to do with that? She discerned only that Daemon and Jaenelle would need time to themselves in order for the baby to get better.

::KaeAskavi? Can you reach Kaelas from here?:: She had found that, when it came to contacting his father, KaeAskavi had a much better range than she did.

The giant cat swished his tail. ::No.:: he said, uncomfortably.

She stroked his paw, a silent assurence that she didn't think less of him. She cast one last look back at the web and sighed. None of it made any sense. Perhaps if she tried again... but no, never again would anyone see what she saw in the tangled web. She reached out and gently broke the thin silvery strands.

Resigned, Della decided to at least give Uncle Daemon and Auntie Jaenelle privacy, as the web indicated, they needed. There were other places in the Realm for her to go without having Daemon worry. She would go somewhere where he would think she was being 'looked after.' Perhaps with one of the members of the old coven of Auntie Jaenelle. She had quarters with Lady Karla... but maybe it was time to visit some of the others.

::You might have to go back to Arceria and tell him where I've gone. I wouldn't want him to worry.:: Della warned KaeAskavi as she sent her craft around her. Her clothes floated out of the dresser, the bags from under the bed, her personal belongings into a private case, which she vanished.

::Gone where?::

The things in the room settled back down again with a thud as audible as her final decision. ::Ebon Rih.::

3/ Terrielle

Phaidian responded immediately to the summons, as any Healer would to the message she recieved, the thrid such message she had recieved in as many days. There was an outbreak of some mysterious disease in the court of the Queen of Dena Nehele. She was not only eager to prove herself as a true healer, but she was interested in being the first to discover the origin of the illness, and hopefully, a cure for it.

She glanced at the address on the paper in her hand, sure that it was leading her in the wrong way, despite her knowledge of the area, having lived in the outskirts all her life. She turned left down a small street and immediately saw the door she was searching for. It opened without protest, revealing a smoking bar-like setting. The man she was here to look at rose to greet her, but was restrained by his friend.

"Reserve your strength, Serod!"

His skin was shallow, sunken and purple around the eyes casting a strong contrast to the paleness of the rest of his face. Sweat covered his face and soaked through a white shirt that might have been presentable at one time. His long brown hair was thinning, bald patches could be seen despite the effort taken to comb his hair over the offending patches. A fever raged through his body, sapping all but a small reservoir of his strength. He was living only on the power of his jewels, and even the red was giving out on him.

The other two men had not lived to fight as long as this man, though their jewels had been lighter, they had called for a Healer almost immediately. By the time Phaidian had reached them, it was too late to do anything but try to ease their pain and make their trip to Hell a more comfortable one.

"Why was I not informed immediately of the Master of the Guard's condition?" She scolded gently.

There was nothing she could do for this man now that he had drained himself. If she had arrived earlier, perhaps he would have had a fighting chance. And maybe the effort would have broken him to his birthright, or of the jewels entirely, but he might have lived! He was the strongest yet to have been infected by a disease that seemed to affect only the Blood, and the darker the jewels they wore, the harder the fever gripped them. They fought harder, but the same fate met all the victims eventually. A painful death where their air was cut off. They struggled to keep the faces of their loved ones clear as invisable hands strangled them to death.

A tear, caused as much by frustration as by sorrow slipped down her cheek. "Make him comfortable," she commanded, turning away. She clasped the arm of the second man and whispered gently, "Don't stand too close."

He nodded, resigned, and propped up Serod, who was hallucinating about a happier time in his life.

Phaidian let herself out, whiping her eyes on her sleeve as she walked. Her eyes closed for a moment, giving the men watching her a chance to surround her. "You are the Healer tending the inflicted of the Hell Fever?" A shabby looking peasant spoke to her, his voice and grammer too perfect for his disguise.

She nodded. She had no weapons with which to defend herself, she was at the mercy of these men.

"We have a patient for you."

Reluctantly, Phaidian allowed herself to be lead to the wildest, darkest part of the city. The man before her opened the door for her and motioned for her to go in first. As a show of good faith she smiled, there was no one inside the room. "Let's see to this patient."

The blow she had been expecting for some time connected with the back of her head, and darkness swelled around her. For the tired Healer, it was almost a relief to sink into a weary unconciousness and sleep with out haunting dreams.

4/ Kaeleer

Della walked the distance from the official landing spot to Lucivar's holdings with a smile. The sun beat down on her golden hair, warming her. Behind her smile, her mind raced, her thoughts as jumbled as the images from her web. Ahead was a bend in the road that easily could have hid twenty men waiting to ambush her, but her thoughts did not stray from Mephis's to her own safety.

The Eyrien from her visions, fit his arms easily around her, adding a spell to cut her from accessing jewels before she thought to call in her dagger or struggle. A rough bit of cloth silenced her scream, and she was airborne, at the mercy of his strength until he chose to set her on the ground once more.

::Please, let me live through this.:: She sent out her wish on a Sapphire thread, almost subconciously.

She felt the Eyrien holding her stiffen as he heard her remark and struggled to re-bind her jewels. The consiquence of sending the message was immediate and painful.

_Please,_ she added silently to herself, her strength gone and blackness filling her vision. _KaeAsvaki!_


End file.
